The Wall of the Missing
by iwasanartist
Summary: Arthur thought his coworker was offering his condolences for George's ear. Oh, how wrong he was.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Wall of the Missing

**Notes: **We'll never forget the ones we've lost, even if we never find them.

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><p>Arthur had just began to sift through a mountain of paperwork when he heard a knock at his office door. Davis, one of his colleagues, popped his head in when Arthur looked up.<p>

"Hey, how you doing?" Davis asked as he walked into the room.

"I'm well," Arthur said. "But very busy. You know, Bill just had his wedding over the weekend, and then with everything here - it's been three days, and I've barely made a dent in all of this"

"Yeah," Davis said as he absently ran his fingers across a box of quills.

"Davis?" Arthur said. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, sorry." Davis answered. "I'm just...I'm afraid I'm just not very good at this," Davis paused, as if trying to find his next words. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about your boy and I hope everything turns out okay."

"George?" Arthur said. "Thank you. We were all shocked about it, but boys will be boys." The words tumbled out of his mouth as naturally as he could make them. The cover story for George's run-in with Death Eaters had been a simple accident. "Thankfully it was just an ear. Healers say there shouldn't even be any hearing loss."

Davis cocked his head to the side and looked at Arthur, his brow furrowed in confusion. "No," he said. "I meant Percy..."

"Percy? What do you mean?"

Davis ran a hand down his face before sitting in the chair opposite Arthur.

"I'm sorry, I just...I thought you knew..."

"Knew what, Davis?"

"I saw his photograph on The Wall this morning."

Arthur had never run through the Ministry so fast. How could he have been so stupid? Percy worked directly with the Minister of Magic. The Minister of Magic fell in a battle that was being covered up as an experiment gone horribly wrong, and apparently no one had seen his son in three days.

The "explosion" had taken out an entire wing of the ministry. The wing was saturated with magic, and all spells that had been cast to lift the wreckage died before even the smallest of pebbles were raised. Search and rescue was being done by hand. Everyone in the building was helping - a "a call for unity" was the official phrase, but most of the Order recognized it as the new regime attempting to appear as it it cared. Not that it could have stopped people from trying to help.

The devastation was extensive. Arthur had been there the first day. Many had. Only some of the victims had been aurors and death eaters. The attack - which no doubt HAD started with a giant explosion - had been in a populated area.

Arthur moved a lot of rocks that day, helped pull a few people out and directed them to the nearest healer. Not long after, rescuers stopped hearing cries for help. They stopped finding people who needed rescued - only those who needed recovered - and by the end of the day, most of the people there had been told to go back to their offices. Back to their normal jobs, and cleanup crews would take care of everything - and everyone - else from there.

The Wall started the next day. Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters who realized a family member hadn't come home began placing photographs in case anyone had seen their loved ones. Pulled them from the rubble. Taken them to St. Mungos. Or the morgue.

On Day Two, people had begun leaving notes of encouragement and love. Candles and trinkets and anything else that reminded them of their little piece of what had collectively become referred to as The Missing. Arthur had heard of The Wall, but hadn't been to see it. Too much work.

And now, as he sprinted through the building, he didn't take the time to notice the items that had spilled out from The Wall. A teddy bear here, a vase of flowers there. Arthur kept moving until he reached his destination, skidding several feet to a halt.

It was bigger than he expected. The Wall stood about a meter high and stretched the length of the foyer. A collage of faces smiled back at him. Some waving, others holding up just-opened Christmas gifts or blowing out candles on a cake. Notes accompanied some.

_Mummy, come home soon!_

_Thinking of you, Paul. Stay safe._

_Happy birthday, Eddie! Your cake was delicious...come back and have some..._

Arthur scanned the photographs, hoping that Davis had been wrong. That he'd mistaken someone else's son for Percy.

But then he saw it.

About halfway down The Wall was the picture of his child - different from the rest in its stillness. Percy was glancing down, a playful smile on his lips as if he had been captured mid-chuckle.

Arthur reached his hand out and placed it on the glossy paper. A stifled sob escaped his mouth as he fought tears. His whole body shook, and he thought he might have toppled over, if not for Davis, who had finally made it to the wall, huffing and puffing and reaching his arms out to steady his friend.

"Are you ... okay ...?" he asked between gasping breaths.

Arthur's hands dug into the sleeves of the other man's robes, clenching it in his fists.

"It doesn't ... It doesn't have to mean anything," Davis said as his breath recovered. "Maybe he was on holiday. Or he's just laying low for a while after bat...after the accident."

"You don't know Percy," Arthur said has he straighened up and wiped at his face. "I don't think holiday is in his vocabulary."

They stood in silence for only a moment before Davis gave the photo a closer look.

"Is that a muggle photograph?" he asked.

"Yes," Arthur said absently. "The muggles have created devices that will show moving pictures, but they can't do like us."

"Do you know who took it?"

Arthur examined the sepia-toned image once more. Percy was sitting against a tree in what looked like the countryside, clearly enjoying the company of someone just out of sight.

Who did Percy know that would take muggle photographs? That could make him smile like that? Who did he know that would miss him days before his family ever gave him a thought?

"I don't know," Arthur said, and those words filled him with almost as much sorrow as seeing his son's face on The Wall of the Missing.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I've got another Percy and Arthur story in the works. I haven't quite worked out its ending (or its beginning, actually, just the middle) but I hope some day my muse lets them have a happy one.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Well, I certainly didn't see this coming.

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><p>Most of Arthur's nights were late. Sometimes it was work that kept him at the ministry well into the evening. Other times, it was a mission with the Order that kept him from home. But most of the time, it was The Wall.<p>

When he realized that Percy seemed to not only be missing, but missing from one of the most serious attacks on the Ministry of Magic since Grindelwald, he didn't want to believe it. Over two days, he went to Percy's office. To his flat. To the library and a myriad of shops and pubs he thought the boy might frequent. Finally, he went to St. Mungos.

And when all leads turned dry, he went home. To his kitchen. To his wife.

And then the fighting started.

_You work in the same building; how did you not notice he was gone? _

_Why didn't you tell me sooner? _

_Why did you let everyone treat him so poorly? _

_You pushed him away. It's your fault he's missing._

A chill had fallen in The Burrow. At first, Arthur tried to write it off as a sign of the times made worse by Ron's travels with Harry Potter, Ginny's enrollment at a much darker Hogwarts than anyone could remember, and the twins' general penchant for mischief at a time when it could very well get them killed.

But Percy's disappearance was the proverbial last straw.

It started as silence. Cursory greetings were given as he walked in the door, but meals were shared wordlessly. Soon, the greetings stopped. And after that, the shared meals. What began as a prepared plate resting for him in the warmer turned into a pot on the fire and then nothing at all.

Gone also were the nights of warm embraces as they drifted to sleep, curled up in each other's arms. They may as well have slept in separate rooms for all the space between them. And then they did.

With little to come home to, Arthur devoted himself to The Wall. Every night he would stand in the shadows, watching his son's photograph, waiting for somebody to visit it. There were times when he thought it had finally happened, and Arthur did not hesitate to descend on the visitors who might have a relationship with his son.

There was a group of friends and a woman - even a sharply dressed young man, once - but they all just stared at him pitiously and apologized for not knowing Percy.

But Arthur was determined. He would wait for hours, increasingly staying so late that he opted to sleep in his office rather than make the journey home. Soon his trips to The Burrow were largely just for meetings with the Order or when Molly would send tersely written notes requesting his presence because one or more of the children would be home. As heads of the family, they had a charade to uphold after all.

Arthur's colleague, Davis, had been a godsend during all of this. Sometimes he would keep Arthur company at The Wall. Other times he would stop by Arthur's desk with lunch - and once even a fresh shirt and pepper-up potion when he realized Arthur hadn't been home in days. He was even kind enough not to comment on the careless, patchy stubble that adorned Arthur's jaw until it had overcome its sloppiness, filling out into a neat, ginger beard and moustache.

And sometimes they would just talk. Davis was sympathetic to Arthur's troubles, but - newly divorced himself - - it didn't take long for "I'm sure everything will be fine" to turn to a well-meaning "sometimes things just don't work anymore, and you'll drive yourself mad trying to force ithem."

Arthur would nod his head at this and quickly change the subject. He was certainly in a rough place with Molly, and he wasn't at all sure he could get out of it, but he refused to completely lose hope in his marriage. Because if he could give up and walk away from their 30 years together, what else could he give up on? His son? Never. _Well, never again,_ the little voice inside his head would sometimes hatefully remind him.

It was that voice that Arthur was trying to silence when he accepted Davis' invitation to visit a pub (or several). "Have a few drinks, find something to laugh at, and help this pathetic old wizard find some pretty witches to bedazzle with his charm." It was fun for a while. The mead flowed freely, and indeed he got a bit of a laugh out of Davis' numerous attempts to pick up women - the most recent of which had ended with his target shaking her head before he had even reached the table.

"Third pub's the charm," Davis said as they neared the Hog's Head.

"Have you ever thought of, I don't know, NOT trawling the pubs in your quest for romance?"

"Where's the fun in that? Davis said with a smile as he pulled the door open and they found a table. Arthur took a seat as Davis ordered their drinks and made a lap around the establishment, scouting his options. It had been a long night, and Arthur was about to suggest they make this the last call when Davis rushed back to the table, a blonde young woman on each arm.

"Arthur!" he said excitedly, "I'd like you to meet Katia and Persephone! They're new in town."

"Hello, there" Arthur said as he rose to make room for them at the table.

"Why don't you come help me at the bar, Artie. Let the ladies get settled," Davis said as he quickly grabbed Arthur's hand and tugged him let himself be dragged across the room until they were out of sight of the women.

" 'Artie' isn't going to become a thing with us is it?" Arthur asked.

"Depends on your answer."

"My answer to what?"

"Katia and Persephone are sisters, you see, and neither wants the other to feel like a third wheel..."

"Oh, Davis, no."

"Just one night, Arthur! You don't even have to do anything, just sit there and keep Persephone entertained for me."

"Davis, that girl is half your age."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Davis said. "At the worse, she's two-thirds."

"Too young." Arthur shook his head. "And what if Molly finds out?"

"She'll be, what, more frigid than she already is?" Arthur shot him a glare, and Davis quickly backtracked. "IF she finds out, tell her the truth: I'm an idiot and absolutely hopeless and you were just helping me out." Arthur let the thought roll in his head for a moment. It was almost like a date, but not really...

"Please, Arthur," Davis pled. "I really need this. You know it hasn't been the same since Janet..."

And in truth, Davis *hadn't* been quite the same since his marriage collapsed. And yet, for all that was different, he was still there for Arthur as much as he had ever been. Maybe even more.

"Oh, all right." Arthur said. "ONE HOUR."

Davis grinned and slapped him on the back as Arthur twisted off his wedding ring for the first time in nearly three decades. Grabbing four steins of ale, they returned to Perspehone and Katia.

"Here we are," Davis said as he set the drinks down. They were nice girls - apprentice healers in Russia taking part in an exchange program at St. Mungos. Persephone was particularly interested in muggle history and struck up a conversation that Arthur was all too happy to be a part of while Davis and Katia exchanged any number of pleasantries and stories.

Persephone had just begun to tell Arthur about something called a Space Station when a bit of conversation caught his ear.

"And just like that, the cauldron exploded!" Katia exclaimed. She and Davis burst into gales of laughter.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, Katia was just telling a story about one day at work when a researcher was experimenting with mixing calming and laughing draughts to make a better anaesthetic."

"And the cauldron exploded," Katia repeated. "To this day, no one knows why, but we'll always remember Old Man Miller - the grumpiest wizard you could ever meet - prancing around-"

"With that smile on his face!" Persephone finished. "It was so funny, Arthur. Those researchers were such a stodgy old sort, and to see half of them acting so ridiculous while the other half pondered the miracle of fingers...hilarious. Of course, nothing got done for three days and the majority of the calming draught was destroyed, which certainly caused problems..."

"Oh, Persephone, stop dwelling on the negative," Katia said. "Finish telling Arthur about the moon house."

"The *space station*" Persephone corrected before continuing, but Arthur found himself only half-listening.

"Far up in they sky, farther than you could ever reach by broom, is a giant ship named Mir."

_"Fred, where's your brother."_

"It's so large, that the only way it could exist was for smaller rocket ships to carry it into space piece by piece..."

_"He's upstairs, and 'can't possibly come down right now.' Something about a cauldron thickness report."_

"And when it was finally built, men could fly up in these same ships and live among the stars for weeks, looking down not just on England or Russia or America, but the entire world."

_"As if the world is going to end because cauldrons aren't all the same."_

"I have to go," Arthur said. "It was lovely meeting you, but I can't stay here."

"Arthur, what are you..." Davis was agape as Arthur stood, collected his coat and headed for the door. "Excuse us for just a second," he said as he rose to follow Arthur. "We'll be right back." Arthur was already out the door when Davis caught up to him. "Hey, where are you going?" he asked.

"Davis, I am so sorry, but I really have to leave,"

"No, you don't," Davis said. "Come back inside; everything's going so well. Let Persephone finish her story; you didn't even ask how the ships stay up..."

"I wish I could, but I have to go-"

"Where?" Davis shouted, his patience finally worn well past its breaking point. "Where do you have to go, Arthur? Back to that wall so you can hide in the shadows and wait for someone who's never going to come?"

"You don't know that."

"It's been more than a month! How many people have you watched come back and cry over one of The Missing, leave a new note and walk away only to come back the next day and the next and the one after that?" He didn't wait for Arthur to answer. "Hundreds! Hundreds of people have done that, _except for Percy_. No one is coming for that photograph, and even if they do, it won't bring him back. Arthur, it is time to start moving forward."

"That's easy for you to say! It's not your child!" Davis reached for Arthur, but he pushed him away, knocking the man back several paces.

"Don't do this, Arthur."

"I have to."

He apparated before Davis could say another word.

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><p><strong>Note 2: <strong>Who would have thought that in my months of not being able to find a single word for several works in progress, it would be a new chapter for this sad little story I thought was finished that would crack my dry spell. There will be another chapter, because this one went on far longer than I intended


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the kind words!**

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><p>The Wall was shrinking.<p>

Minister Thicknesse - his strings being pulled by Voldemort - had allowed its creation for much the same reason he had allowed so many to help search for survivors after the attack. It was the same reason there was an elaborate, mournful funeral for Scrimgeour in the following days. It built goodwill and lent itself to a sense of unity. It was all rubbish of course. Voldemort and his followers cared nothing for the survivors, the dead or their families. But it was a convincing act for those who didn't know the truth, and it hadn't taken long for people to graciously begin falling in behind their new, caring minister. A silent coup welcomed with open arms.

But soon The Wall had become a distraction. A reminder of the past and an impediment to the future. A memo had gone out a few days ago:

_To all witches and wizards of this great community:_

_The Ministry of Magic is proud to inform you that a permament memorial is being created to honor those most affected by the recent and tragic accident in our very halls. It will pay tribute to the heroes who risked their own lives pulling survivors from the wreckage. The survivors, whose strength and resilience is an inspiration to us all. And the victims - those missing and perished whose absence will forever leave a mark on all our souls._

_The Ministry has assembled a team of artists tasked with the memorial's creation, and all have said they would like to incorporate aspects from the area of the East Wing, commonly referred as The Wall of The Missing. Soon, Ministry workers will begin removing and cataloging items from The Wall and surrounding area for such purposes. If you would like to provide more information on your loved one for the memorial, please bring your favorite item from The Wall to the Department for the Arts and speak with one of the many junior assistants assigned to aid in the project. If you would like instead to retain your keepsakes for display in your home, please collect them no later than one week from today._

_Together, I know we can make sure this tragedy and those who sacrificed everything for the betterment of wizardkind are never forgotten._

_Yours, Pius Thicknesse, Minister of Magic_

Of course, there would be no memorial. Items from The Wall would be locked away for a decade or more while these mythical "artists" struggled to agree on a common vision. Eventually the memorial would begin to fade from public consciousness - assuming the wizarding world hadn't already gone to hell by then.

And yet, The Wall was indeed shrinking.

Arthur swore at himself as he approached his customary waiting spot. This was the absolute *worst* time to go gallavanting around like a teenager. He was almost (almost) relieved to find Percy was still there, frozen in happiness. And now, like so many times before, he pulled his coat tighter around him, disappeared into the shadows and waited.

Perhaps it was the fight with Davis or the ale or even just the late hour, but Arthur was exhausted, and it wasn't long before he began to doze on his feet.

But then he heard footsteps.

His eyes snapped open and he pressed himself against the wall in an attempt to stay out of sight and not scare off the visitor. Arthur's heart leapt into his throat when a young woman stepped into the hall. Lit only by a soft glow from the tip of her wand, she was shrouded in a cloak, the hood pulled forward to hide her face. Nervously, she glanced back and forth, making sure the hall appeared empty before carefully and quietly approaching The Wall.

It all made sense now, Arthur realized. Even as the Ministry bleated about togetherness, undercurrents of elitism and blood purity had begun to creep in around the edges. With Voldemort in control, it would only be a matter of time before all things muggle were extinguished along with all who carried them. If the young woman had any inkling of what was to come, of course she had stayed out of sight.

But now she walked forward. As she approached The Wall, fear grew in Arthur. What if he was wrong? What if she was there for someone else? What if no one really was coming? His fear vanished as she reached out a hand and laid her fingers on Percy's cheek. He thought he could hear her cry. He wanted to call out to her, but his voice caught in his throat. He wanted to go to her, but his feet would not move. Instead, as she reached out another hand and carefully pulled the photograph from the wall, Arthur leaned forward on a nearby table of flowers and other knick-knacks, trying desperately to see her better.

He leaned too far.

Not built to support the weight of a grown man, one leg of the table buckled and broke. Its contents fell to the ground in a crash. The girl spun around. The hood of her cloak fell back and the light from her wand brightened as Arthur jumped back - though he didn't know why - to stand behind a statue. He winced as vases and teacups, toys and trinkets continued to spill and clatter noisily.

"Who's there?" the woman said. Her voice was strong. Brown hair spilled out of a loose bun as her blue eyes scanned the toppled table. To some, she may have looked quite plain, but in this moment, to Arthur, she was stunning.

"Show yourself!" she said. She moved her wand across the wall. As she neared Arthur's statue, he stood very still. _What's wrong with me? This is what I've been waiting for!"_ But he didn't move. He was afraid. Afraid that she would hate him. Afraid that Percy only had bad memories to share of the place he once called home. As the light played at the foot of the statue and moved its way up, he squeezed his eyes closed and wished for her to pass him by.

"Percy?" she said. Her voice wavered. "Percy, is that you?" The light from her wand shook slightly.

"No," Arthur finally said. "It's not." The light from her wand stopped moving, as if her grip and turned to stone.

"Come out from there, right now," she commanded.

Arthur stepped out into the light. She gasped when she saw him and then concentrated, stared him up and down, perhaps trying to gauge his age. Her brow furrowed.

"Are you...are you Arthur Weasley?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I am, and I've been waiting for you a long time." She stared at him silently. "I know what you must think of-"

"Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry," she said, cutting him off as she moved toward him. "This may seem incredibly rude, but I just - I have to..." she reached him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close into a tight embrace. She let out a heavy sigh as he wrapped his own arms aroud her.

"Who are you?" he breathed. "How do you know my son?" He could feel tears on her cheek as she raised her head and put her lips to his ear.

"My name is Audrey," she whispered. "And I love him."

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><p><strong>Note: Boy, this little one-shot is quickly becoming a full-fledged fic. Next up: Audrey meets Molly.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** There will be at least one more update, but as my workweek has just begun, it will surely not be as speedy as these three have been. Also, TheGreatAndPowerfulMoz (whose name I am contractually obliged to adore, btw) raised a good point in comments by finding it odd that Audrey's reaction to Arthur would be what it was.

My thinking was that, first, like it or not - Arthur is a direct connection to Percy. They not only share blood but also a whole lifetime of memories. I think to suddenly have that in front of her would be overwhelming, and - however irrational - she would want to be able to touch him, seek comfort and know that she wasn't alone in her concern for Percy. Also, I kind of like the idea that maybe Percy doesn't hate them all so much as he is hurt by them (a concept I've begun exploring in an entirely different fic, because apparently Percy and Arthur are my life).

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><p>It was late when they arrived at The Burrow - far past normal calling hours - but Audrey had refused to apparate.<p>

"It's just this fear I have," she said. "One distraction and there's no telling what could go wrong."

But the lights were still on when the arrived by broom, so Arthur led her up the steps and to the door, where he paused. It had been so long since everything was normal that it felt odd to just walk in the door. He raised a hand, but knocking didn't feel right either.

"Mr. Weasley?" Audrey said as he hesitated with one hand in the air, "isn't this your house?"

"Yes," Arthur said. This was silly, he realized. "Yes it is." He turned the door knob and opened the door just a crack. "Would you mind terribly waiting out here for just a moment? I'd like to prepare my wife for all of this."

"Yes, of course," Audrey replied. "I understand."

Arthur slipped sideways through the crack in the door, giving her an apologetic smile as he closed it. When he turned around, Molly's wand was inches from his nose.

"What is your greatest ambition in life?" she asked coldly.

"What?"

"You heard me. Answer the question."

_To find my son, put my family back together, defeat Voldemort and live happily ever after..._

"To find out how airplanes stay up."

"Mollywobbles," Molly said as she lowered her wand and looked him up and down. "Who's with you?"

"How did you know anyone was with me?" Arthur asked.

"Remus Lupin redid the wards yesterday. They picked up your arrival - and the arrival of an unrecognized companion - three minutes ago."

"Right," Arthur said. For some reason, he found he couldn't stop fidgeting. "Right, well. There's someone that I'd like you to meet." He opened the door and ushered Audrey inside. "Molly, this is Audrey. She's-"

Molly quickly raised a finger and shook her head. Arthur stopped speaking as she gazed at Audrey and looked between the two of them. As she brought the raised hand to her mouth, Arthur registered three emotions playing across her face. The anger and irritation he expected. It was the profound sadness that hadn't been there seconds before that threw him off guard. It quickly was replaced by a glare cold as ice.

"What's this then?" she finally said. "Did you come here to gloat?" Arthur didn't understand. "I've known you since you were 11 years old," Molly continued, "And in all that time, I've never known you to be so cruel."

"Cruel? Molly, what is this-"

"Don't take me for a fool, Arthur, don't you dare!" Molly yelled as she swatted away tears. "You reek of alcohol and her perfume, you're not wearing your wedding ring, and-" her voice cracked for just a moment. "And I've borne seven children - YOUR children - I know a pregnant woman when I see one. Arthur Weasley, how could you!" She turned away, unable to face them.

Pregnant? Arthur gaped at Audrey. Well that just couldn't be true.

"Molly, it's not like that"

"Don't start," she replied, an edge to her voice betraying the wrath behind it.

"Would you just let me explain-"

"THERE'S NOTHING TO EXPLAIN!"

Molly turned to face him, and all the words that had gone unsaid between them overr the past month and years before that exploded in a thunderous display of emotion.

"YOU NEVER LET ME GET A WORD IN!"

"WHY IS IT THAT *I* ALWAYS HAD TO BE THE PARENT AND *YOU* GOT TO BE THE FRIEND?"

"THE RING IS RIGHT HERE IN MY POCKET! NOW IT'S ON MY FINGER! ARE YOU HAPPY?"

"NONE OF THIS MAKES ME HAPPY, ARTHUR, NONE OF IT!"

"It's Percy's" Audrey said from her spot by the door. The Weasleys paid her no mind, continuing a back-and-forth that had been decades in the making.

"**IT'S PERCY'S!" **she yelled.

They froze. Molly recovered first.

"Percy?" she asked while Arthur stared, slack-jawed. "My Percy?"

"That's can't be," Arthur said.

"I assure you, it can be," she directed at Arthur before turning to Molly. "And Mrs. Weasley, I promise you, I have never met your husband before tonight. It's Percy's." Molly gave a little squeak as she brought one hand to her mouth. Arthur continued to stare.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She coughed once, and when she spoke again it was stronger. "We were at the ministry the night of the attack." Her words quickened. "The Minister was there, and he fell. Then in all the chaos, we got separated, and... I lost him." She couldn't stop the shake that had taken over her body. Her throat constricted as tears stung at her eyes. "I lost him."

"Oh, darling!" Molly exclaimed as she rushed to Audrey's side and gathered her in her arms. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault at all."

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><p><strong>Note 2:<strong> A short one, I know. Next up, once I figure out how to write it: Just what went down that night at The Ministry of Magic?


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